I suppose that all young theater folk grow up forcing plays on other children who live in their neighborhood.  At least I did.  I wrote various plays, and sometimes musicals, that I would force other children (cousins, neighbors, kids I babysat) to star in.  I got especially angry with children who took a really long time to learn their music (“I don’t really understand why it’s hard for you to just repeat this melody back to me.  No, it isn’t changing every time I sing it!”).

The first play I wrote as a teenager was called TALK OF PLEASANT THINGS and I directed it at my high school, much to the detriment of my willingness and enthusiasm to show my face at reunions.  It was about, among other things, AIDS, alcoholism, and abandonment.

When I got to college, I wrote a play with parts for twelve actors.  Eight of these parts had about six lines apiece.  This is when I got my first lesson in “unproducability.” Rolin Jones, a phenomenal writer who mentored me through the process of writing this play, mentioned the possibility of one or two actors playing multiple roles.  I was like, “What?” and he was like, “Yeah.”

And so eight parts became two.  And the play got a lot stronger and better because of it (not that anyone will ever get to read it, see it, or even touch it).

Somehow, though, I’ve forgotten that lesson in writing this new play.  I find myself with nine characters and counting.  I’m hoping there will come a time somewhere down the line where I can whittle some of these people away, but it’s hard to write about a family without including everybody.

At least I’ve lightened up a little when picking subjects to write about.

Back to writing DEAD CHILDREN now.

My first blog post as the 2010 Playwriting Fellow and here it is.

A quick introduction perhaps?  My name is Eliza Clark, I’m a huge fan of Page 73 and I feel so incredibly lucky to be working with them this year on my play, Dead Children.   I was a member of Interstate 73 last year and every meeting felt like one step closer to being a working playwright.  In fact, I’m pretty sure one of the “notes” I gave Tommy Smith after a reading of one of his plays was, “This play is so awesome I feel like you just gave me a lesson in how to be a good writer.”  I’m not bragging about my ability to give constructive notes, but I am really good at expressing how much I love fellow writers.  This company gives me an immense amount of hope about the future of theater, and I feel like I’ve won the lottery.

I’m currently living in Los Angeles, writing for a new TV show that is going to be airing on AMC starting August 1^st.  The show is called Rubicon and it’s a conspiracy thriller in the style of those great seventies movies like Three Days of the Condor.  I’m currently in the midst of writing the first draft of Act One of Dead Children and simultaneously working on the first draft of Episode Seven of the show.

I’ve never actually written two things simultaneously, and I’ve never ever written for television, so this process has been illuminating to say the least.  For me, the process of writing involves a lot of self-loathing, procrastination, and sadness, followed eventually by fulfillment, elation, and treats (including but not limited to cupcakes).  I’m currently experiencing some of the restless sadness that comes with beginning a new play – I’m still getting to know these characters, and I’m letting them breathe and talk a little too much.  The pages I do have favor certain characters more than others (those I have a better handle on), so much so that the play has a bit of a limp.  I have a feeling that the first draft might be eight hundred pages before I whittle it down to a slim ninety.

Perhaps playwrights should never blog.  I promise to try not to use this blog as a veiled message to those who will be reading my early pages to go easy on me.  Though, if they choose to see it that way, I won’t be disappointed.  Next Tuesday will be the first time that Asher and Liz see pages of Dead Children, and I hope they will be able to see the early kernels of a play amongst the wreckage of my broad strokes ideas.  I’m starting to see a play in here somewhere, which is encouraging.  Even more encouraging is the deadline I’m working toward, and the people on the other side of the country who keep me tethered to the theater while I’m swimming through television’s waters.

JASON GROTE                              LAURA JACQMIN

Jason Grote, the 2006 Playwriting Fellow here at Page 73 and playwright of 1001 which P73 produced in the fall of ’07, and Laura Jacqmin, a semi-finalist for the Playwriting Fellowship in 2008 and a finalist for the same program in 2009, have been selected to participate in the Governors Island component of the Sundance Labs!

The Governors Island Lab is the first non-residency program associated with the Sundance Lab, making it a very unique and exciting experience – artist retreat by day, and the comfort of home by night.

The Governor’s Island Labs run May 23 – June 6. For a synopsis of Jason Grote’s Civilization and Laura Jacqmin’s Look, We Are Breathing please check out the full article on Playbill.com or visit www.Sundance.org/Theatre.

We’re so proud of these two amazing artists and very excited to see what wonderful work they create with this exciting opportunity!

Uhm.  Yes.  It’s been long.  The end of the calendar year was kind of nuts.  We’re back, I think.

Also, tomorrow we announce the 2010 P73 Playwriting Fellow.  (Got it, Mom?  At this point, she’s the only one checking the blog.  Hah.)

And happy 2010 to all!

That’s what we want to know.  Who is this Heidi Schreck?

Here’s one answer:

Always have mixed feelings about the last day of the residency.  We’re excited to hear the presentations; we’re also sad, though, that the residency is over.   Page 73 generally is made up of a team of 3 – Liz, Asher and Dan.  But, during our residency at Yale, the team explodes to about 20 people.   It’s always a little bittersweet having to leave New Haven and get back to our three-person model.

Moving on.  It was great to hear Cory Hinkle’s Little Eyes and Kara Corthron’s Spookwater.  Davis McCallum (who directed Little Eyes) and Kip Fagan (who directed Spookwater) did tremendous work on these pieces.  Davis really managed to extract the creepy-funny aspects of the play; the actors (Dane, Jenn, Erica, Carter, Barret) were unbelievable.  And Kip helped bring to life the expansive world of Kara’s pre- and post-Katrina New Orleans with the contributions of percussionist John Corkill’s and the versatile actors (Teresa Lim, Nondumiso Tembe, Aja King, Aleta Mitchel, Trai Byers and Ben Horner).  Really, the plays couldn’t be more different – yet they’re both similar in that they depict societies in transition (Little Eyes’s post-9/11 Big Brother world and Spookwater’s New Orleans).  (Ed. note: So great that we were joined by board member Allison Blinken, who took some lovely photos!)

We’ll miss New Haven. We’ll miss everyone who worked with Page 73 this past week.  But we’ll be back to New Haven, for sure, and will continue to soldier on, hoping to work with each member of our 20-person Yale Residency family.

Trai Byers and Ben Horner

Nondumiso Tembe, Teresa Aviva Lim and Aleta Mitchel

Kip Fagan and Asher Richelli pre-"Spookwater" presentation

We did a cold reading of Sam Hunter’s newest play tonight at 9:30 p.m.  We assembled in a conference room on the third floor of the Yale Cabaret and began to read a sad, funny new play about loss and family.  The play is funny.  And it’s one of those miraculous pieces where you find yourself guffawing one second and tearing up the next.  Teresa, Dane, Erica, Barret and Aja pulled all the stops (fearless actors!) in a very cold reading of these very new pages.   The play completely is in its nascent stages right now; it’s really not fair of us to say anything else.  Still, it was a great way to spend our last evening in New Haven — all assembled in a room reading and having drinks while it started to rain a little outside.

After the reading, some of us (Cory, Davis, Kara, Aja, Sam, John Baker, Tory (who’s here!), Liz and Asher) headed over to Sullivan’s for the perfect night cap: whisky and beer.

Dane, Erica, Daniel, Teresa and Kip get ready to hear Sam's new play

After a couple of drinks, Aja and Kara remember the good ol' days

People are extraordinary.   Vera Wang needs to try to corner the light saber wedding market.

Walking back from lunch with Jennifer Keiger and Amy Boratko of the Yale Rep, we ran into this gem: